


Catboy!Malfoy

by all_not_well



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Catboy Draco, M/M, dub-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-03-19
Updated: 2011-11-09
Packaged: 2017-11-14 01:24:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 3,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/509827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_not_well/pseuds/all_not_well
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malfoy's animagus transformation goes awry, leaving Harry with a very affectionate cat-boy on his hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Catboy!Malfoy, part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an anonymous prompt at hogwarts_kink on Livejournal.

It had been a _very_ long day. Three splinchings - one of them life-threatening - a case of kneazle flu, and an assortment of magical mishaps had Harry counting the hours until the end of his shift. He couldn't wait to Floo home, order take-away curry, and fall into bed.

He did not expect to be pounced upon the minute he stepped out of the Floo. By his flatmate. His very gorgeous and currently _naked_ flatmate. Who also, oddly enough, happened to be sporting tufted ears and a long, fluffy, cream-colored tail that twitched playfully above the delectable curve of his arse.

Harry hurriedly looked away from Malfoy's arse and picked himself up off the floor. "Malfoy," he said irritably, "what the hell?"

"Mreow?" said Malfoy. He arched his back and rubbed the side of his head against Harry's knee, leaving long strands of hair on Harry's trousers.

"Bloody, buggery fuck." Harry sighed and scrubbed at his face with both hands. "Tell me you didn't pick _today_ to attempt your animagus transformation."

"Mreow!" said Malfoy, and wound sinuously between Harry's legs. Harry had to grab the mantlepiece to keep from being knocked to the floor a second time.

"I did ask you to wait until I could be there with you, didn't I? Now look what you've done."

"Mreow?" Malfoy sat back on his heels and stared up at Harry with large, soulful eyes. His pupils were slitted, Harry noticed, and there was very little visible sclera left. His eyes were a kaleidoscope of greys and blues and just the merest hint of green. Harry quickly found himself getting lost in them.

He jerked his gaze away, and shook his head to clear it. Malfoy would definitely not appreciate Harry taking advantage of him in this state. Even if he did make a very sexy cat-boy.

Harry managed to make it to the sofa, despite Malfoy's repeated attempts to trip him up along the way. He couldn't remember much of what McGonagall had taught them about the animagus transformation, but Malfoy had helpfully left a rather large pile of books on the subject spread out over the coffee table. Hopefully one of them would have a chapter on what to do when things went wrong. Otherwise they'd have to wait until morning, when he could contact McGonagall for more advice.

Harry selected the book with the most scribbled-on, dog-eared pages and settled in with a sigh to read up on the subject.


	2. Catboy!Malfoy, part 2

Malfoy settled in next to Harry on the sofa, kneading at the sofa cushions with his hands and purring very loudly. The sound went straight to Harry's cock. He found it hard to concentrate on the words in front of him as his trousers grew uncomfortably tight.

It didn't help when Malfoy moved to kneading at Harry's thigh instead of the cushions.

"Leave off," said Harry, pushing Malfoy away. "I'm trying to figure out how to fix whatever it is you've done to yourself."

Malfoy was undeterred in his affections, though his tail twitched back and forth in feline irritation. He rubbed his face against the book, jostling it so that the words blurred in front of Harry's tired eyes.

"Damn it, Malfoy." Harry threw the book back down onto the coffee table. "Here I'm trying to help you, and you--"

He froze as Malfoy crawled onto his lap, straddling his thighs and settling his arse against the length of Harry's cock where it tented his trousers. Malfoy leaned against Harry, tucked his hands up under his chest, and tilted his head back to give Harry a smug look. The vibrations of his purrs nearly had Harry coming right then and there.

Harry fought the urge to grind his hips up against Malfoy's arse. This was his _flatmate_ \- his very platonic flatmate, who had an on-again, off-again relationship with Astoria Greengrass and who was, to all appearances, completely straight. Current feline affections notwithstanding, Malfoy had never given Harry any sign that he might want to pursue anything more than the wary friendship they generally maintained.

It was really hard to remember all that, though, when Malfoy stared at him with such possessive heat in his eyes.

Then Malfoy gave a very feline stretch, settled his hands on either side of Harry's head, and began to lave Harry's face with long, wet swipes of his tongue.

Harry's control shattered.


	3. Catboy!Malfoy, part 3

Six months Harry'd been flatmates with Malfoy.

Six months of furtive glances and desperate wanking. Of watching Malfoy stroll half-naked and completely un-self-conscious through the flat they shared, all the while unaware of the impact he was having on Harry's libido. Of careful, subtle hints on Harry's part that went unrecognized on Malfoy's, until Harry had all but given up hope that Malfoy might ever return his interest.

There was only so much temptation he could take.

Malfoy's skin was incredibly warm and soft under Harry's fingertips. He stroked his hands down Malfoy's back, mapping the curve of his spine, and then further down to cup the firm globes of Malfoy's arse.

Malfoy arched his back into Harry's caresses and purred, his eyes slitted and a blissful feline smile on his pointed face. He licked the tip of Harry's nose, then licked his way along Harry's jaw to his earlobe, which he nibbled briefly before sticking his tongue into Harry's ear.

Harry closed his eyes and shivered.

"Are you still in there, Malfoy?" Harry gripped Malfoy's hips and arched up, sliding his cloth-covered prick along the cleft of Malfoy's arse. He groaned at the friction on his aching cock. "Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?"

"Prrrrow?" Malfoy said into Harry's ear.

Then Malfoy bit down at the juncture of Harry's neck and shoulder, and just like that Harry was coming in his trousers like an over-eager schoolboy. He gripped Malfoy's hips hard enough to bruise the tender skin, his own hips jerking uncontrollably as he shuddered through his climax.

Malfoy made an odd sound - something between a yowl and a snarl.

He wriggled out of Harry's hold and leapt off the sofa, landing on the carpet with a light thud. He scrambled under the coffee table, then glared balefully out at Harry from his position of relative safety.

Malfoy's eyes were luminous in the lamplight. His pupils were blown wide and very round, leaving only a thin ring of grey around the outside.

"Oh, _fuck_ ," said Harry, and covered his face with his hands.


	4. Catboy!Malfoy, part 4

Malfoy was going to kill him.

Or at least, Malfoy would be the _death_ of him, Harry amended, as he felt a nudge against his knee.

Harry dropped his hands and stared down into Malfoy's upturned face between his knees. Apparently Malfoy had already moved on from the incident that had sent him scrambling under the coffee table, though Harry was still trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

Malfoy blinked curiously up at Harry, then leaned in to delicately sniff at the sticky mess in Harry's trousers.

Harry froze and could only watch, struck dumb with a combination of lust and horror, as Malfoy tentatively touched the tip of his pink tongue to the wet patch at Harry's groin. Harry's cock gave a feeble twitch.

Malfoy smacked his lips, then leaned down for a second taste.

"No!" Harry shoved at Malfoy's shoulders, sending him sprawling to the carpet. Harry winced as Malfoy narrowly missed hitting his head on the coffee table.

Malfoy hissed and scrambled to his hands and knees. He arched his back and glared at Harry with slitted eyes.

"Sorry," Harry muttered. He fumbled for his wand and quickly Vanished the mess in his trousers.

Malfoy only hissed again in response, then began to lick furiously at his arm. Which Harry could only assume was the feline equivalent of a cold shoulder. 

"I really am sorry," Harry whispered, before fleeing to his own room. He'd done enough damage for one night. Malfoy would just have to deal with being a cat-boy until McGonagall could sort him out in the morning.


	5. Catboy!Malfoy, part 5

"MrrrAWWWWWrrrrr."

The sound jolted Harry out of an uneasy doze. He rolled out of bed and reached for his wand, his instincts kicking in before he'd even properly woken up. Then the rush of adrenaline hit and he blinked, suddenly wide awake and ready to take on whatever it was that had made that godawful noise.

"MrrrAWWWWWWWWWrrrr."

It was an unearthly, inhuman yowl that sent a chill crawling down Harry's spine. It was heartbreak and loneliness and sorrow scraping painfully against Harry's ears. It woke in his soul a deep-seated need to protect whoever had made it, to wrap them up and keep them safe and warm.

"MrrrrAWWWWWWWRRRRR."

"Who's there?" Harry demanded.

Something scrabbled against Harry's bedroom door, and then pale fingertips poked through the gap at the bottom. "Mrreow? Mrrrow? Mrrreow?"

Harry let out a whoosh of breath he hadn't known he was holding, and dropped his wand with a clatter on the bedside table. "Malfoy?"

"Mrrow?"

Harry heard more scratching and scrabbling against the door. The doorknob jiggled.

"Go to bed, Malfoy," Harry said. He sank down on the edge of the bed and cradled his head in his hands. "I'm much too tired to deal with you right now."

"Mrreow?"

The doorknob jiggled again, and the door popped open with a quiet snick of the latch.

Harry glanced up, frowning. He was sure he'd locked his door before crawling into bed.

Malfoy shouldered the door open and stuck his head inside Harry's room. "Mrrrrrow?"

"No," said Harry.

He started to get to his feet but it was too late - Malfoy was already scampering into the room and up onto Harry's bed, purring and rubbing his face against Harry's back and shoulders. Malfoy made happy little chirruping sounds, seemingly ecstatic to be back in Harry's company once more.

Harry didn't have the heart to push Malfoy away. He cautiously turned and rubbed behind one of Malfoy's furry ears instead.

Malfoy butted his head against Harry's fingers, and his purring grew louder still. Malfoy gave Harry's fingers a quick lick and then turned his head so that Harry could rub behind his other ear.

Harry had to keep a firm grasp on his sense of control. He'd already screwed up once, and Malfoy was likely to give him hell for it. No sense making things worse than they already were. Though, if Malfoy kept up with his affectionate behavior, Harry was going to have a very long night to get through.

"Who knew cat-boys could be this sexy?" Harry whispered as he slid his fingers through Malfoy's silky hair.

Malfoy looked up at Harry with slitted eyes and nuzzled Harry's wrist.

Harry jerked his hand away and stared at Malfoy in shock.

He could've sworn that Malfoy just pressed a _kiss_ against his skin.


	6. Catboy!Malfoy, part 6

"Malfoy? Do you understand me?"

Harry leaned down to peer into Malfoy's eyes, looking for some sign of comprehension - of humanity - within. For a moment he thought he saw _something_ , a flicker of awareness. Then Malfoy blinked and the flicker was gone, and Malfoy turned his face away.

Harry sighed and rubbed at his tired eyes. For a moment there, he'd thought maybe Malfoy was trying to tell him something. But he had to have imagined the kiss. The feeling had been so slight, after all.

Malfoy kneaded at the tangle of Harry's blankets, a contented purr rumbling in his chest.

"All right," said Harry, reluctantly. "You can stay."

If anything, Malfoy's purrs grew louder, and his kneading more enthusiastic.

Harry petted Malfoy for a few more minutes, enjoying the opportunity to stroke Malfoy's smooth skin and sift his fingers through that pale, fine hair. He probably wouldn't ever get the chance again - he might as well take advantage of it while he could.

Eventually, though, a huge yawn threatened to split Harry's face, and he gave Malfoy a light push. "Budge over."

Malfoy growled, his tail twitching, but he moved to the other side of the bed and curled up there, watching Harry through slitted eyes.

Harry crawled beneath the blankets and settled in to sleep. Even with his eyes closed, he could still feel the weight of Malfoy's possessive gaze. Apparently the cat part of Malfoy had chosen Harry as his person, even if the human part wouldn't.

There was a rustle of fabric and a shifting of Malfoy's weight on the mattress, and then Harry felt a warm weight against his side. He opened his eyes and found Malfoy huddled up against him. A blissful smile curved Malfoy's lips.

The low rumble of Malfoy's purr started up again, just barely audible. This time, instead of arousing, it comforted Harry, and followed him into a deep and dreamless sleep.


	7. Catboy!Malfoy, part 7

The flat was strangely silent when Harry finally woke from his sound sleep. The sun was already well up, but there was no clatter of china and cutlery in the kitchen, no imperious voice telling him to get his lazy arse out of bed or forfeit his share of the bacon. He was alone in his bed, and somehow that didn’t seem quite right, though he couldn’t put his finger on why.

Then his sluggish brain caught up with recent events. Malfoy. Cat-boy. Right.

Harry fought his way free of the snarl of blankets and rolled out of bed with a yawn. He needed to make himself presentable, then he needed to Floo Hogwarts and get the mess with Malfoy sorted out as soon as possible. The sooner he got Malfoy back to normal, the better. Harry didn’t know how much longer he could bear Malfoy’s odd, affectionate behavior, knowing that it wasn’t _real_.

But there was no sign of Malfoy while Harry went through his morning routine. Harry found himself oddly missing the attention. He slipped into a t-shirt and a pair of denims, then padded barefoot out of the room in search of his flatmate.

He found Malfoy in the lounge, lying in a boneless sprawl across the sofa, and still deliciously naked. To all appearances he was sound asleep, but at Harry’s near-silent approach Malfoy opened his eyes and yawned. His tail twitched in obvious irritation at the disturbance.

“Er,” said Harry, feeling a bit awkward. This didn’t even seem like the same Malfoy who’d pounced so enthusiastically on him the night before. “Still a cat, then?”

Malfoy’s tail thumped steadily against the sofa cushion. He narrowed his eyes to glare at Harry.

“Right,” said Harry with a sigh. “Good morning to you, too.”

Harry swallowed around the strange lump in his throat as he went into the kitchen to fix his cuppa. At least Malfoy’s personality was back to normal, even if he was still caught in mid-transformation. But Harry’s fingers itched to run through the silky strands of white-blond hair, to slide against warm, soft skin.

He couldn’t help thinking that he’d had his chance – and he’d failed, somehow, to make the most of it.


	8. Catboy!Malfoy, part 8

Malfoy eventually slinked into the kitchen when Harry set the bacon to fry in the pan, though he settled on his knees some distance away. He curled his tail around himself and lifted his nose into the air, sniffing delicately at the delicious scents of their usual Saturday morning fry-up. Malfoy’s enigmatic feline gaze stayed fixed on Harry all the while as Harry cooked the bacon and set it aside, then cracked eggs into the pan.

“What?” Harry finally demanded, unnerved by the weight of that stare.

Malfoy didn’t so much as blink.

Harry sighed and rubbed at the scar on his forehead.

“You,” he said, pointing at Malfoy, “are a complete and utter _prick_ , and I don’t even know how I’ve managed to put up with you this long.”

The tip of Malfoy’s tail gave one minute twitch, and then was still.

Harry bit his lip. “Sorry,” he said. “We said no name-calling, didn’t we. That was uncalled for.”

Malfoy turned his head to the side and gave his shoulder one very precise lick. He lifted his head and resumed his unblinking stare.

“No,” said Harry, as he portioned out two plates, “you’re absolutely right. I _am_ a lunatic. But I would like to point out that I was perfectly sane until I moved in with you.”

He didn’t even know why he was talking to Malfoy as if Malfoy could understand him, except that it felt odd _not_ to be talking to him. Their Saturday mornings had become an ingrained ritual by now. They took it in turns to cook, with the other washing up after. Harry would tell Malfoy about the odd cases he’d seen during the week, and Malfoy would entertain him with clever impressions of the high-society folk he hobnobbed with at his charity functions. They never really talked about anything serious – just the usual banter and friendly insults, with the occasional Quidditch debate thrown in for good measure. But neither one of them had ever missed a Saturday breakfast at home, regardless of where they had spent the night prior.

Harry set his plate down in his usual place at the table, and started to do the same with Malfoy’s when a thought occurred to him. “Er,” he said, glancing at Malfoy. “D’you want this on the floor?”

Oddly enough, Malfoy’s sneer looked exactly the same as ever, his cat-mind notwithstanding.


	9. Catboy!Malfoy, part 9

Malfoy knelt in his usual chair, his hands braced on the tabletop, his fair head bent low over a china saucer. Malfoy lapped delicately at the milky tea Harry’d poured for him after Malfoy stuck his nose into Harry’s teacup one too many times.

Malfoy should have looked ridiculous. His nose was shiny with bacon grease. There was a smear of butter on his cheek and a dollop of egg yolk drying on his pointed chin. Droplets of tea dripped from the ends of his pale hair, which had fallen forward when he’d bent his head over the saucer.

And none of that mattered in the least, because Harry could not tear his eyes away from the long, obscene curl of that pink tongue dipping over and over into the murky brownish liquid. Malfoy’s tongue was thin and narrow, and like his face, it was decidedly pointy. And very, very flexible.

Harry wanted that tongue on his arse. _In_ his arse. He wanted to come on just that tongue alone, lapping hungrily at his hole with the same single-minded focus Malfoy was currently giving to his tea.

Harry squirmed in his chair, reaching down to adjust the placket of his denims over the length of his rapidly-hardening cock.

Malfoy froze, his grey eyes luminous as they met Harry’s. The tip of his tongue still peeked out between his plump lips, practically daring Harry to lean across the table and touch it with his own.

“I—“ Harry’s voice was a strangled croak. “Help.” He gulped. “I mean – get help. Floo – McGonagall – oh, fuck it.” He leapt out of his chair and limped to the lounge. Even the thought of McGonagall did nothing to alleviate his arousal.

Malfoy was _definitely_ going to be the death of him if they didn’t get this sorted out soon.


	10. Catboy!Malfoy, part 10

“Tizzy is so sorry, Mister Healer Harry Potter, sir,” said the tiny house-elf that answered McGonagall’s Floo. “But Headmistress McGonagall is being at the game today.”

Harry settled back on his heels with a groan. “Saturday,” he muttered. “Quidditch. Fucking hell, I’d forgotten.”

Tizzy’s bulbous eyes widened, and she gave a tiny little squeak.

“Er,” said Harry, as he realized what he'd said. “Sorry.”

“Yes, sir, Mister Healer Harry Potter, sir,” the house-elf said. She tugged at one of her long, drooping ears. “Should Tizzy be fetching the Headmistress?”

Harry shook his head. It would be Gryffindor versus Slytherin, and McGonagall would suffocate him with her tartan hat if he pulled her away from it.

“It’s not an emergency. Just please tell her I Flooed, and that I need a consult on a botched animagus transformation whenever she has the time to spare for it.”

He doused the flames and rose to his feet, resisting the urge to bang his head against the mantelpiece like a demented house elf.

Malfoy butted his head against the back of Harry’s knee, nearly knocking Harry off his feet. Harry caught himself on the mantle, then smiled and reached down to scratch behind Malfoy’s ear. Malfoy was probably just using the opportunity to rid himself of some of the sticky bits of breakfast that still clung to his face, but Harry preferred to pretend that it had been a deliberate, conciliatory gesture.

He glanced at the books still strewn across their coffee table. “I don’t suppose you’d let me do a bit of that reading, then,” he said.

Malfoy made a strange noise, a low susurration of sound that seemed to combine a purr with a throaty, close-mouthed meow. He jumped up onto the sofa and curled in on himself, closing his eyes for a catnap.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Harry swallowed a disappointed sigh as he grabbed the first book that came to hand. As counter-productive as it would have been to have Malfoy crawl into his lap, he couldn’t help but admit that he’d been hoping for a repeat of that performance. He wanted Malfoy so much he _ached_ with it.

“Why is it that the most perfect men are always straight?” he grumbled out loud.

Malfoy opened his eyes just long enough to give Harry a sidewise, secretive glance before returning to his nap.


	11. Catboy!Malfoy, part 11

Harry was barely a few pages into the book when he felt a light touch against his arm. Intent on his reading, he simply brushed it away. A moment later the ticklish touch returned, then became a warm, insistent press. Harry glanced down to find Malfoy's fingers against his skin, just at the crook of his elbow.

He froze, hardly able even to draw a breath into his lungs. His own fingers clenched so hard on the book that the pages crinkled and tore.

Malfoy's eyes were still closed as if in sleep, his breathing deep and even. But his fingers drifted, slipping down Harry's arm to his wrist, where they curled in a possessive grip. Malfoy's nails dug in, sharp pinpricks against Harry's skin.

"Harry." Malfoy's voice was a throaty purr. "Harry."

"Draco," Harry whispered.

Malfoy's eyes opened: clear, luminous, with round pupils blown wide and surrounded by a thin ring of storm-grey. "Help me," Malfoy growled.

"I'm trying." The book slipped from Harry's nerveless fingers and fell to the floor. He brought his free hand up to cover Malfoy's hand on his wrist. "Tell me what to do."

But Malfoy's eyes were clouding over, the pupils shrinking and lengthening into slits once more. "Mrrow," he said sleepily, and rolled over, arching his back in a slow stretch. His hand slipped free of Harry's. He dropped down to the floor to slink off towards the bedrooms.

Harry brought his trembling hands up to cover his face. "Fuuuuck," he breathed into his damp palms.


End file.
